


Like Gravity

by Bunchill



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, SoRoku Month, SoRoku Week, Soroku, bc they should, do they even have a stablished week/month?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-26 15:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunchill/pseuds/Bunchill
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a wealthy kingdom called Destiny Land, a utopic place blessed with light and heartfulness by folkloric legends and sharp reality as well. From fables about star-shaped fruits that had ethereal ichor in its juice to unknown famine and abundant joy, all lived happily ever after, praising the Sun, the Earth and the Moon for their blessings — the three monarchs of such vast realm. All loved and cherished, the trio was responsible for defending the kingdom from any harm alongside the Queen and the King of Hearts, allying themselves to other places for resources, friendship and longevity as magic grew fewer and more dangerous to the universe, becoming weapon-made by dangerous wizards who wanted to drown the entirety of the world in utter darkness as a way to “free” people. As so, they protected everything they could until their last breath, accompanied by brave generals, witches and knights to protect what mattered the most. Or so the fairy tales tell us. But what do they know?This is the story of Mercury who loved the Sun too much even when war was at the corner, lurking.This is the story of a tragedy who was turned into a bard’s song.This is the story of a bitter happily ever after.





	Like Gravity

_ㅤㅤ_ _Good morning, my prince._

_ㅤㅤ_ As sunlight started to gently bathe half-opened eyes that dreamed a far too good slumber, the remembrance of those words made his eyes flutter wide, butterflies making a nest out of his heart and tickling the tips of the mouth into a warm spring-like grin.  _Time to get up already, huh_. Even though dawn was only now starting to masterly ink black canvas with its golden brushes, the boy was already on his feet, stretching as a comfortable, lazy yawn escaped from a still husky throat that scared the drowsiness out of the bones by making them click in a quick, bearably audible snap. Was it a dream that woke him up this time? Or a memory? He scratched the back of his head, tilting it to the sides, self-made questions sounding silly right after they jumped out of his train of thought. It was certainly both if he was being honest with himself – after all, a memory can be so precious it becomes a dream, can’t it? There really isn’t a better way to wake up than a kiss of a treasured memory.

 _ㅤㅤ_ He looked at the window, half to accompany the big yellow astro on its rehearsed show, inspired by the orchestra that followed it; half to make sure he wasn’t sleeping anymore, the familiar view grounding him in the realm of the awakening. When he used to be younger, back when his figure was that of a kid so petit the crown would almost fall from his locks to his neck most of the time, he always wanted to rise before his comrade sun – as if it was a race with a well-defined finishing line, he’d try over and over to wake up before the morning rays in order to see the miracle of them shooing darkness away. You know, like looking at the sky right before a meteor shower; there’s magic in it! And he wanted so badly to see it too. However, maybe because racing in competitive spirit every day makes one quite frustrated (not to mention the famous ‘five more minutes…’ he’d give himself to count more sheep in his sleep when exhaustion won over), or maybe because magic could be found in other precious things, the brunet was okay at last with him and the sun waking up at the same time. Besides, the sun sang the same old melodies of always – and the prince? Well, he had something the sun in the sky couldn’t have or imitate. Those sweet, sweet words he heard every day in a different musical tone.

 _ㅤㅤ_ See, he has seen countless dawns in his life, in all kinds of ways. From his home at the islands to his life in the castle, from other kingdoms and realms, even from forests and deserts of foreign scenarios of when him, Kairi and Riku went on diplomatic missions together. Sure, it was radiant and it was beautiful each and every time; the clouds breathing new life, the birds soaring fearlessly, the leaves yawping dews, the colours going from dark blue or pitch black to lively, adoring orange as if they’ve learned to smile after sorrows. Pretty, not a doubt, that melody was. But what followed after in _his_ day in specific was the true cherry of the cake (if not yummier to the ears!), a surprise he gladly embraced eagerly even if he saw it coming from afar. Sometimes it’d come in a hoarse, hazy voice of someone who didn’t sleep on a pillow made out of feathers but rather a pillow made out of paper and letters. Sometimes it’d come with a half-asleep rubbing of eyes, yet with endearing consideration nonetheless. Sometimes it’d be prompt and firm, dipped in the kindness of a bow and grin. A gift can have so many laces and decorations – albeit, in essence, his gift was still the same, just with different colours, vibrancies and tones, kind of like marbles he could collect and keep inside the well-protected safe of his chest; he loved it more and more every time.

 _ㅤㅤ_ Who knew a greeting could lift up someone’s mood so much? Well, perhaps that wasn’t fair. It isn’t the greeting per say, it’s the one who’s greeting. And with him there, everything, it just… Seemed better, happier, _brighter_. Even when compared to the Sun. It was simply peaceful, completing.

 _ㅤㅤ_ Water was splashed on his face by unquiet hands without any ceremony whatsoever, blue spheres facing him across the mirror as he gave himself an approving look, slapping his cheeks ever so slightly, jumping in one place to look for energy in hops. He gave himself a fond grin as liquid beads fell from his chin, fingers finding a way to intertwine each other while his mind flushed in memories and dreams quondam. Maybe one day, not so far away; he’d be able to explain that far-off memory that felt like a distant dream in more detail. Maybe. No time for that now. The sun was already halfway throughout its concert, he couldn’t leave them hanging much longer. Ten minutes.

 _ㅤㅤ_ Hurriedly looking for the towel, he now had a new task: clothes. A frustrated groan, right before his hands found his waist in a determined stance. Here’s something that isn’t so cool about being made princely; the clothing looks flashy and stunning but they’re really a handful to work on. First, the beige-long cottoned tunic that reaches his wrists, almost tickling tanned skin with its fluffy handcuffs. Then, time to put on the breeches that supposedly aren’t either too tight or loose, but tend to the tight side of the coin – he missed his baggy shorts from when he was a kid… did mom keep them anywhere in their house at the islands? He’d need to send her a letter later to ask, even if his last one was just a couple of days old. Imagine, living in a world where princes could wear baggy shorts; the dream!  _Back to work, Sora_. Now, the royal uniform, golden and white to symbolize the daybreak, ornamented with fluid, small-drawn and discreet sewed white floral patterns, silkier in texture than any other patrician vestment. Putting his medals and decorative laces around his torso, shiny small epaulettes decorated his slender shoulders as the garment’s tips were just a bit below the hips. Instead of a Byron-ish tie as Riku so much liked to wear, he preferred much more the golden sun-shaped piece he got from the Queen and King, decorating his neck on not so much modesty, shining in confidence. Finally, golden boots and a golden crown decorated by small yellow and white gems, jewels from all kinds of lands that now sat perfectly on spiky chocolate hair. A sigh of relief and of hurry! Ten minutes. _Whew_.

 _ㅤㅤ_ Twenty minutes, precisely on time and at last. That’s how long the sun takes to be up in the horizon when it isn’t made dormant by the lackadaisical winter; and fairly the quantity of while Sora needed to properly wake up and get ready for the rest of the day. It always seemed like an eternity for him, though. Especially when he was so eager to what came next. Holding his breath and opening the doors of his room in a flamboyant commotion of noise and display of doors hitting the walls, the sun behind him seemed to perfectly contrast his figure in a great painting, illuminating the entirety of the hallways as the opal curtains opened in a majestic manner, as if obeying to a silent noble command. He wasn’t interested in any of that, though – where’s his marble of today? –; Caribbean azures searched his right, his front, only then to find what ( _who_ ) he was looking for on his left, cheerfulness sprouting from ear to ear.

 _ㅤㅤ_ “Good morning, Sora – my prince.”

 _ㅤㅤ_ Ah, today is his favourite greeting, it seems! There it was, that mellowed lopsided smile that made summer come knocking earlier in his thorax, those clean stormy eyes that were paradoxically so peaceful when the blonde stared in his direction, pupils blown as if he has found his lightning rod in the depths of the brunet’s soul. And the way his name flowed on his tongue, it was better than any chanson sparrows chippered; it made his feet feel lighter while his stomach became giggly and airless. Isn’t this how you feel during a tornado, he wondered? Well, not that he cared being dragged closer by the strong wind, anyway, and so he did, giving more excited steps to face the eye of the storm directly. No dark circles decorated his bags today either, which meant he had a good amount of sleep too!

 _ㅤㅤ_ “ _Great_ morning, Roxas!” words came out as candy-like as he felt, warmth emanating from his body to the room whilst shoulders playfully bumped. The Royal Guard muffled a bubbly chuckle, touching their shoulders back with their gazes locked. “You slept well today too. You even have bed hair!”

 _ㅤㅤ_ “Oh”, he didn’t seem too content with that comment, metal hands abandoning the halt of the sword he carried in order to try tracking anarchic lemon waves back to place a little too hurriedly. There was something funny and maybe weirdly adorable in seeing a well-respected bulky-dressed soldier getting worked up about his messy hair, making sure that appearance and armour were in perfect condition in a somewhat dumb-founded haste, but the Prince of the Sun managed to hold back any teasing comment or snort. When he was about to say something comforting, about how it happens to all people sometimes, however… “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice – I wanted to come as quickly as possible to be by your side. ‘Guess I was too impatient.”

 _ㅤㅤ_ Damn it, this time he was the one looking funny wearing a foolish expression since his lips couldn’t decide if they curved in flustering, flattery or plain joy. If it was possible for one to have all three expressions in one single strike, his features certainly wore those now. “Yeah, I get that” he let out with a nervous yet empathic laughter, shaking his head as he tried to scratch the red off his cheeks. “C’mon, let me fix it for you.”

 _ㅤㅤ_ Gesturing with his hand for Roxas to lower down a little (even though both of them wore boots with heels, Roxas’s were certainly higher, adding up to their small yet considerable height difference), the spiky-haired ruffled auricomous braids in a jester, messing him up even more while listening to a whining _hey!_ from his partner as he noticed what was going on before the prince apologised over peals of laughter, “Sorry, you looked like a giant ruff, I had to!” It didn’t sound like a genuine apology, though. Not _yet_ , that was, which opened a gap for the knight to show his fangs in response. _Oh no_.

 _ㅤㅤ_ “Oh yeah? I’ll show you who’s going to look like a ruff when I’m done messing up your intestines with tickles!” Roxas was about to do more than threatening him with itching fingers, and the prince understood far too well from previous experiences that he didn’t stand a single chance against him – even though Riku always said Roxas lacked skills in strategy and combat planning, that angelic face could make anyone surrender when provoked enough. Of course, that counted for ticklish wars too, the ones that are really bloody and heartless (read: teary and hurt your belly even in the following evening). So, asking for a white flag when he was about to be lifted up from the ground and destroyed in continuous breathless giggles, he asked for forgiveness, saying he wouldn’t do it again. When the blonde one pouted, wary of any more mischief, solace was spoken in an oath of “Okay, okay, I promise! I’ll fix it, _for real_ , royal word and all” and the soldier gave in to his prince’s caprice wills.

 _ㅤㅤ_ Chamomile and cinnamon. Roxas’s perfume was of chamomile and cinnamon with something else he couldn’t quite distinguish. Dew? Rain? Chestnut? All of those? Whatever it was, it was really him. _It’s so good_. Hands travelled slowly through the short-haired mane, brushing it between fingers, taking all the time of the world he could to feel the softness on the digits and secretly massage him there. After what it seemed like a second but was in reality minutes, Sora had been done but still kept his palms hoovering around lightly, not wanting to let go quite yet. The soldier raised his head ever so leisurely, a humming of alleviation thriving out as they peeked into the cores of one another. He seemed so satisfied, so serener. Was his hair disturbing him that much? It’s not like the prince did much ‘fixing’, either. Maybe he exaggerated with the bed hair statement. “There we go, fresh as new! Or, y’know, as _old_ , since it’s just your usual hair, less bed, heh.”

 _ㅤㅤ_ “Thank you”, when both of his knight’s mouth tips curved up, it seemed like his electric eyes sparkled a little more with life. Funny enough, that was a rare look on him, or so Ventus and Xion liked to claim – the monarch felt completely otherwise, seeing him beam in glee was a familiar sensation to have, although one he wouldn’t want to stray himself from, “My prince.”

 _ㅤㅤ_ “Yes?”

 _ㅤㅤ_ The Royal Guard tilted his head to the sides, focus changing from his suzerain to the pieces of clothes the islander wore, almost as if he was calculating hard equations for taxes, frowning as if he received the result of an unwelcomed outcome or made an adding mistake. “Your tie is loose. Your regalia are out of place too. And your shirt… May I?”

 _ㅤㅤ_ There was a flustered nod of head that took place, and Sora straightened up his posture as covered pale hands first stretched his uniform, getting rid of wrinkles and adjusting the epaulettes that almost fell down, lining up the regalia with buttons and laces in an almost symmetrical precision. Roxas was so focused. As so, he stayed there still like a rock, half likely holding his breath due to the other being so much closer to the point their foreheads were almost touching against one another, half likely out of awkward pink being a colour he couldn’t hide from even if he wanted to, cheeks and sudden risen warmth giving him away. So being with his arms a bit opened, back drawn as an ‘l’ and chin facing up as he avoided eye contact was all he could do to leash contained all those feverish feelings that made grand heart stop in dopamine. For some reason, that kept happening whenever Roxas got closer like right now. Maybe it was just an impression?

 _ㅤㅤ_ The spiky-haired brunet thought of asking something, but by the moment he thought of birthing the queries out of his tongue, iron gloves found their way to his choker-tie piece shaped like the sun, adjusting it to the right height and tightness before the soldier posed proudly of his work. Sora couldn’t help but chuckle while rubbing the back of his own head in return. A little ashamed of being the pot that calls the kettle black, perhaps? “Thanks, it was my bad. Guess we were both in a hurry, huh?”

 _ㅤㅤ_ Another nod, this time slower yet considerably longer and from Roxas, cold gauntlets now brushing against balm sun-kissed skin, “It’s my pleasure to serve you, my sun.” For some reason, that made his heart jump – especially when the man in his front brought the verse of his hand to plant a delicate kiss in adoration. This was supposed to be normal, constant, even, between the two of them, since they now shared the special connection and bonds of a suzerain and his vassal. Kissing hands was the protocol to demonstrate loyalty. But… It didn’t feel that way. And, again, that lopsided smirk followed by those melted caramel touches captivated him. “Shall we go, then? We can have breakfast together and then go out to the village, I’ve heard there are a lot of new things in the stores.” But even that felt somehow natural. The loss of control, the not-so-invisible gravity that pulled them closer, the little plans they always did together. It was just part of his day. Precious.

 _ㅤㅤ_ Again, more wide smiles, sparkles of eyes floating around (if solar or thunderous, not a single person that wasn’t a mage would be able to distinguish), touches of shoulders and hands, longing gazes. “Yeah! Can we have strawberry cake as dessert? And let’s watch the sunset together today too, it’s gonna be fun. The treats are on me this time!”

 _ㅤㅤ_ “Everything and anything for you, my prince.” And then a new bumping of shoulders caused by a certain prince, a snicker that escaped the stoic yet lovingly affectionate visage of the knight. “I’d like all of that. But didn’t you pay for it last time?”

 _ㅤㅤ_ So, they kept walking through the hallways like that, bumping shoulders with shared cackles, sometimes playfully pushing each other as if to prove who was the one that paid the expensive chocolate cake of the other day, or who ate the last forbidden cookie baked by the maids – wasn’t it Riku? He looked particularly guilty that day –, talking about the new fairy tales they’ve read or heard about from other worlds, when the next festival was and which village should they visit next month, what to buy there. None of the two of them noticed the windows opening magically and beautifully as the curtains flew mystically in wing-beats, illuminating the once dark castle into pure white limestone. None of the two of them noticed the birds singing louder and livelier as they walked by, nor the fragrance of lilies and daisies that invaded the air as the castle started to wake up. They didn’t have eyes for anything but the other next to them. That magic, that concert, was enough and would never get old.

 _ㅤㅤ_ It seemed like both of them were just as eager to be by each other’s sides. Who knows, maybe one day they’d notice that Neverland isn’t so far off.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do something in a more carefree writing style since this will be a very sweet, heartwarming piece! I based myself a lot on L. Carroll's way of describing and dealing with things, so I hope you guys enjoy it! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes too, it's 11PM and I really wanted to post this, haha.  
> This will most likely have quite a few chapters, considering how many ideas I have to progress this... So expect a lot of fluff and romance with that good hint of slow burn! Possible agonizing angst in the future too, who knows? But for now, only warm feelings allowed. Please follow me on Twitter [@_bunchill](https://twitter.com/_bunchill)! I'm trying to be more active there, and this incentive would be really nice to keep writing and posting updates. <3  
> If you have any thoughts or prompts, leave it on the comments or send me a message through Twitter! Any criticism is highly appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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